


What's your favourite colour? (A Narry Drabble)

by thegothamkid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Narry - Freeform, narry drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:32:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegothamkid/pseuds/thegothamkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn’t know the answer. He used to know, he swears he did, but now, he sees every colour in different parts of Niall and he can’t bring himself to choose his favourite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's your favourite colour? (A Narry Drabble)

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this while watching Rhiannon McGavin's writing tips. She suggested starting with a prompt and said to start with something simple, like 'What is your favourite colour?'. And thus, this thing was born.

_**“What’s your favourite colour?”**  
_

Harry doesn’t know the answer. He used to know, he swears he did, but now, he sees every colour in different parts of Niall and he can’t bring himself to choose his favourite.

Maybe it’s blue. Blue like Niall’s eyes, the soft baby blue during the summer and the grey-blue in the colder months. The same blue that he stares into each time he speaks the words ‘I love you', the blue that he gets lost in, the blue that swallows him whole.

Or red, the colour of Niall’s lips, all soft and sleepy when Harry kisses him good morning. Red like Niall’s eyes when Harry’s done wiping away his tears, red like the tip of Niall’s nose as they walk hand in hand down the snow covered streets.

Or even purple. Such as the imprints of Harry’s fingers on Niall’s hips that he so tenderly soothes his lips over with gentle kisses. Like the hickeys left on Niall’s shoulders, a reminder of who holds him at night.

He considers pink, the colour that crept its way across Niall’s cheeks the first time Harry kissed him, the color that Harry goes to great lengths to see as often as he can.

Green, because that’s Niall’s favourite colour. Yellow, the tips of Niall’s hair that Harry loves to feel between his fingers. Brown, the freckles scattered across Niall’s delicate skin that Harry connects with his fingertips. 

Black. The one that Niall saved him from. 

After so many years of isolating himself in his own personal darkness, Niall showed him the light in the world, he showed him colours, and Harry just can’t pick one because they’re all _so_ _important_ to him. 

So he decides that he loves them all. His favourite is a perfect combination, a kaleidoscope of colours, and he calls it:

“Niall”


End file.
